memesinthenight | TEST DRIVE MEME #8

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TEST DRIVE MEME #8

Hello and welcome to the In the Night test drive meme for January! Thanks for your interest in our game! In an effort to streamline our application process and avoid future confusion between incoming and existing players, we will no longer have a reservation period. Applications open on January 22, and will be judged on a first-come, first-served basis.

While you're here...
Take a look at our rules and faq pages to familiarize yourself with the game.
Note that we have a (current) application cap of 16 apps this month for new players, as the game has a player cap of 70. An accurate count of current players will always be available on the taken page.
TDM threads can become game canon if both players wish. If the situation isn't something that could happen in-game, you're free to chalk it up to some strange hallucination, a shared dream, or other mysterious circumstance.
Note that this is not limited to new characters threading with characters already in-game. If current players wish to thread out the TDM prompts as canon events, they are welcome to do so. They are welcome to make posts in the main comms for TDM events as well. Please note, however, that actual plot clues or happenings will not occur in TDM prompts.
If you plan to apply, please keep in mind that we do require at least one sample thread on the application to be from our TDM (though it doesn't need to be the current TDM).
You're welcome to use the provided prompts or come up with something on your own, but we do ask that all threads take place in our game's setting.

Thank you again, and we hope you'll choose to join us!

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CAKE BY THE OCEAN

It's a brand new year, and with it, a brand new...you? Well, you are dead, but there's still plenty of ways that you can embrace the spirit of starting fresh, especially when it seems that the forest spirits have their own traditions that they're eager to share! If you've only just arrived, you may find yourself pelted with loaves of bread and accosted with noisemakers, or if you're a seasoned Beaconite, maybe you're wearily unsurprised to find strings of onions being placed around various doorways. Just another day in the afterlife. Best to go along with it, even if some of these practices seem to be somewhat chaotic. It's never a good idea to make the spirits mad, after all, and especially not when they're trying to show you...some sort of semblance of good will, you think. For the most miserable of souls, at least you can be comforted in the knowledge that it should all be over before the day is out.

This is a miniature version of the festivities present during this month's intro log!

I CAN'T FEEL MY FACE WHEN I'M WITH YOU

Winter has made its way to Beacon. It's fortunate that plenty of snow gear has been made available at the general store, so this is a great time for those with little-to-no experience with genuine snow to get out there and draw some angels or build forts for some playful snowball fights! At least...it is, at first. Linger too long and you'll find yourself caught in the middle of a raging blizzard that seems to have swept in out of nowhere. In an instant things seem to go from cold to freezing, and the need to get back inside where there's safety from the elements is pressing. Fortunately, you aren't alone. It might not be your usual residence, but more than one of you have tumbled into the same shelter, and will probably be stuck in there until the worst of the storm passes. No time to get to know each other like the present, right? Gotta break the ice somehow (haha).

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RUN BOY RUN

The changes in the weather isn't the only thing that residents old and new need to keep weary of. While a great many of the forest spirits remain generally friendly, traveling alone comes with its risks. There's always the possibility that you may encounter a creature that's less inclined to let you pass it by unscathed. And so it goes for you as you venture out into the trees with your lantern and torch in hand. Whatever reason you had for starting out alone, and whatever got you to this point, you've had to take shelter from a very, very displeased spirit. Maybe it has a body not meant for climbing, and you've scaled high up into a tree that it won't let you down from, or maybe you've taken shelter inside of a structure that it's too big to squeeze itself into. Whatever the case, it's clear that your pursuer isn't giving up the ghost (haha), and you'll need to contact someone for some form of help to get yourself out of this.

1000 FORMS OF FEAR

It's a normal day in Beacon...which means that something inconvenient at best and terrifying at worst must be just around the corner. Whether or not you're on edge about the relative calm, it doesn't seem that anything weird is happening...until you try and post to the network. No matter how many times you try, the message you intend to write erases itself. As if someone else has hacked into your tablet, a new message re-types itself in front of your eyes. One of your greatest fears or greatest regrets announces itself for all to see, and there's no getting rid of it. All attempts at getting rid of it are fruitless, and it doesn't seem that you can back out of the new post window now that you're here. Your only option now is to hit send. But, hey, your fellow residents are a pretty understanding lot. Maybe they won't hold whatever it is against you. Maybe you can explain it away. There's always lying, too, if you want to go that method of covering your tracks.

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Ding Dong You're Dead But Hey There's Cake?

_{[Out of everything Tataru's experienced in all twenty one summers of her life, death was, without a doubt, the most traumatic. Perhaps the wildest part of it all is that she can't really remember how she kicked the bucket either. Had a morbol made a tasty treat of her or had a dragon decided to turn her into a quick snack? Really, there are lots of ways for lalafell to meet their demise. She'd just assumed hers wouldn't have been so soon.

But, when you go on grand adventures, are shy of three feet tall, and deal with all sorts of creatures and people alike, it only makes sense that the risk of ending up dead would be amplified tenfold. This, however, is not what she expected dying to be like, Twelve have mercy. As far as she can tell this other world, this afterlife of sorts (after she'd had her share of tears and panicked screeching), is more alive than she could've imaged. Why, they're even throwing a party...even if it means she's getting loaves of bread tossed at her. Having taken a seat (and one of the loaves) Tataru settles herself down, her lantern carefully placed by her side. For the moment she's completely content with picking at the bread, breaking off pieces to nibble on. She's easy to overlook due to her size and even easier to trip over if you're not watching where you're going.

If you're not the clumsy type then it might be her who's running into your legs, hugging her lantern to her chest as she shrieks, chased by a bunch of mischievous forest spirits with noise makers and a penchant for tugging on her ears.]}

O-Oh leave me be, leave me alon-!

_{[What's that sound? That thud? It's the sound of her head making contact with your knees, depending on how tall you are, and the subsequent tumbling of Tataru onto her backside. Oops.]}

Ah-!

Can't Feel My Face

_{[Despite the time she'd spent in Ishgard, Tataru never found herself becoming fond of the chill. She is, however, aware of how quickly a storm can brew and despite her best attempts at hurrying back toward where she's been designated to stay and "live" (little lalafell legs can only go so fast) she finds herself caught amidst winds that threaten to blow her over and flakes of snow that blind and disorient. At the first door she can find that will open to her she's throwing herself through the entrance, slamming the barrier shut behind her with a full bodied heave. From the size of her and in the dim light she may be mistaken for a forest spirit, but as soon as she's turning around it's clear that her maskless face is one that belongs to just another unfortunate soul.

She'd be apologizing to barging in, tripping over her words and waving her hands about...but that'll come in a moment. She needs to catch her breath. So, y'know...give her a minute.]}

[ This place doesn't get many visitors. He expects that's why Bruce chose it to begin with— there wasn't much in the museum that likely hasn't been picked over by the people that came before. But even so, there aren't any real signs of the place being lived in on first blush. The bedrooms that have been built, the makeshift kitchen— those are all further back.

So it would probably seem strange then, that as soon as she charges in to a place that should by all rights be abandoned, in the middle of the room is what seems to be a shadow made into a person. Vanitas' lantern is dim compared to almost everyone else in this place, and while he's as solid as any other person, he seems to settle in the shadows like he'll become one with them at any moment. The thing that stands out most about him are the yellow of his eyes, watching this new person trying to catch their breath against the huge doors.

It's a wonder she was able to pull them open at all, at that size. Vanitas arches an eyebrow. ]

_{[Well if that isn't ominous at all. His eyes remind her of some creature in the woods, reflective and yellow, peering out at her from the darkness. Compared to his lantern hers burns brightly, the handle of it gripped stiffly in one of her tiny hands. The thing is rather large in comparison to her size, but not heavy enough that it's a burden to carry. It's just, well, a little awkward. One can thank the rush of adrenaline for making her able to wrench the door open. That and a lifetime of having to adapt to a world where things are scaled up far beyond a comfortable lalafell size. Thems the breaks, you see, but it's fine. She doesn't even think twice about it.

A few more heaves of her chest and her breathing is finally settling into a steadier rhythm. Those yellow eyes blink her way and she finds herself blinking back, silent, as if the two are trapped in an awkward, silent standoff.

Right. She just barged into this guy's place to seek shelter from the storm. The least she can do is apologize.]}

S-Sorry for the sudden intrusion...I would've knocked first if the storm wasn't so dreadful out there! I thought my ears might fall off!

_{[Is he friendly? Please be friendly...]}

[ Any other day he might actually chase her back out. The thing is, Vanitas is as needlessly cruel as tha, if he's in the mood to be— but maybe she's just caught him on a good day. Maybe he's still thinking of the way Riku had been all blue and frozen, and what Bruce might do if he were the one to find her like this.

Nevertheless, he's still far from hospitable. His arms are loose at his sides, and he gestures with one of them, low near his hip. ]

You were the idiot walking around in it. You would've got what you deserved.

_{[Okay. Hold up. Hold the linkpearl. What in the Twelve is this guy's problem? Sure, Tataru's no stranger to rudeness or jerks by far, but she's near-chattering from the chill that had gripped her tiny form. Lalafell weren't built for sub-zero temperatures, after all.]}

How do I deserve to freeze to death?

_{[Seriously? Although wait...she was already dead, wasn't she? Nevermind! It still sucks to be caught out in a blizzard.]}

Oh, I am terribly sorry, I was unawares that people in this town were able to tell the weather so accurately. Dear me, I must be an idiot indeed.

_{[She's not an idiot and that was sarcasm you weird hyur man.]}

[ Something in his expression seems to spark, like her response has been met with his approval— or at least with his interest. The problem is that Vanitas thrives on strife, on any brand of darkness. Whenever anyone rises to the occasion, almost by reflex his attention sharpens. ]

At least we can agree on that.

[ She looks incredibly cold. Not the same way Riku had been, but cold nevertheless. Vanitas, layered up in defense, is still cold himself— but that doesn't make him sympathetic. Compassion isn't a skill that has ever been cultivated in him. ]

Whatever you were looking for, you're way off the mark. Do you even know where you are?

_{[Down she sets her lantern, only so she has use of both hands, placing them squarely on her hips. Time for a bit of a sass-out.]}

If I knew where I was I wouldn't be here, would I? Even with these good eyes of mine I couldn't see a thing out there in the storm. I would've picked someone far more pleasant to impose upon otherwise.

Get used to it.

[ Someone more pleasant would certainly be more helpful. If Riku or Bruce were around, they might have even offered her a blanket, or at the very least a towel. ]

Whatever power you might have had before coming here is changed in Beacon. Good eyes or not.

[ Even Vanitas, darkness incarnate, isn't exempt fro this fact. His eyes flick the short length of her, the way the snow has started to melt and turn her clothes dark, the snow that's melted from the edges of her hair, the paleness to the tips of her pointed ears. ]

_{[Well how fortunate for her that she hadn't any power really to lose in the first place! There's a quiet hmph out of her, hands still on her hips as she keeps her gaze locked on the yellow eyed menace in the corner. Yeah, that's what you are Vanitas. A menace. She can tell.]}

As unfriendly as you are, I'll be imposing until the storm passes.

_{[Yeah. Going to have to deal with her lalafell self until it stops being whiteout conditions. Sorry, not sorry.]}

Natasha's already turning towards the sounds of distress, but she's accustomed to operating at the height of an average adult human or above, and so she's looking well above Tataru's head when the lalafell collides with her. She stumbles, but keeps her feet, managing to look almost graceful as she steps away to avoid getting tangled up with whoever (whatever? the height suggests forest spirit, though she has yet to hear any of those speak) just ran into her.

She crouches, lifting her lantern to get a better look at the...girl? being pursued by the gaggle of noisy spirits.

"Hey. You okay?"

Tataru gives her own head a little shake as she presses her palms against the ground, tilting her gaze upward toward the crouching hyur woman she's barreled into. Smooth Tataru, smooth. Immediately an apology is tumbling out of her, just as eloquently as she'd tumbled her way into Natasha's legs.

"I'm awfully sorry Miss! It's just these pesky creatures won't leave me alone they won't."

And as if to punctuate her point she's turning once she's pushed herself up back onto her feet, whipping her head around to give the small congregation of spirits a frown, waving her hands haphazardly as if to emphasize her point.

"S-Shoo! Get along, go away now! Leave me and my ears alone!"

Edited 2020-01-16 03:38 (UTC)

Natasha's eyes narrow slightly as she studies the spirits, and she winces as one toots gleefully on its horn, the rhythm a very rough approximation of Tataru's speech pattern. It reminds her a little of Clint's children when they were younger (and even five years later, there's still a dull ache beneath her breastbone at the thought of them), utterly wrapped up in some game and unable to tell when they'd gone too far and the shrieks of glee turned into just shrieking.

"Try to calm down," she says evenly. "I think they think you're playing along." And she sounds certain, even if she really isn't, because these are alien creatures and not human children, not anything she has real experience with.

This lady has a point, sure, Tataru knows she's right, but it's so hard to calm down when she's wound tight like this. Inhale. Exhale. The spirits are being rude but she's dealt with worse before. Maybe if she just ignores them in the presence of this woman they'll find other people to bother.

"There are much better ways at asking someone to play."

Not that she's in the mood to play period right now. Tataru's mental state is somewhere between bewildered teetering on trying to keep things together so she doesn't end up crying again. Reaching down she moves to pick up her lantern, the item a bit big for someone her size but light enough it's held effortlessly in the lalafell's arms.

"Sorry again, for running straight for your legs."

"Don't worry about it," she says, with a dismissive wave of the hand not holding her own lantern - carbon-black and shaped suspiciously like an hourglass. "No harm done."

She drops her gaze to study the diminutive woman's face, though she keeps track of the spirits out of the corner of her vision, ready to grab their hands if they do decide to pinch and poke again. The strain she sees is familiar, and she can't chalk it entirely up to misbehaving spirits, though their antics certainly can't be helping.

"There's a pub in the town square. Why don't we head over and get a drink? It looked like it was pretty popular when I passed by, so the crowd should spread out your admirers' attention."

"They have one in this place?"

Pub. Did this lady just say pub? It's like a little switch has been flicked inside the lalafell as Tataru's eyes widen a bit, hugging her own lantern tighter against herself. Yeah, Natasha just said the magic word, or at least a variation of it. Bar. Tavern. Pub. They all served the same purpose at the end of the day and boy could she use the comfort of something familiar (if one could call it that) to calm her nerves.

A drink too, certainly wouldn't hurt.

"If you'll have my company then I would be more than happy to go with you Miss."

"It's one of the few signs of civilization here," Natasha says, one corner of her mouth quirking up in a small, lopsided smile. The quality of nightlife isn't something she's particularly concerned with, but anywhere people gather - especially when there's alcohol involved - is a good source of information. And a good source of cover.

She offers Tataru a hand, still smiling. "I'm Natasha."

As nice as a bit of warm, mulled wine could be on a crisp, winter evening, the true thrill of a tavern was the gossip and secrets one could learn if they lingered and listened long enough. She'd spent a great deal of time working at The Forgotten Knight back in Ishgard and had overheard quite a bit of juicy intel. If she wanted to know more about this town it'd be a good place to hunker down for a bit to chat with the locals.

If there are any.

When the hand is offered to her Tataru takes it with both of her own, giving it a shake with a smile. Sure, she's still nervous and on edge, but at least right now she can trick herself into focusing on just this one thing. If she can go with Natasha to the pub, maybe things will end up okay. Or, well, relatively okay.

"I'm Tataru! I'm glad to have run into you."

Er. Well. You know what she means.

[ Rather than hear Tataru crash into her (and land unceremoniously afterward), Ophilia feels it—in part because it’s impossible to catch the sound between all the horn-honking and whistle-blowing, but especially because Tataru hits her with a force enough to take her down with the poor girl. She lands flat on her back, staff, flowy cape, lantern and all.

Her first thought after collecting herself is to hurry over to Tataru, who seems a little worse for wear. She’s the easily startled sort, Ophilia thinks, so she’s careful to keep her hands where Tataru can see them and not to venture too close. ]

Goodness! Are you alright?

[ On closer inspection, the poor girl’s a lot smaller than Ophilia expects her to be. That, in combination with her wide eyes and cherubic cheeks, leads her to confuse ‘small’ for ‘young,’ so… ]

You must be quite a ways from home. [ She offers Tataru a helping hand up to her feet. ] Shall we look for your mother together?

I-I'm sorry it was my mistake!

_{[It isn't the first tumble she's taken in her life and it certainly won't be the last. At least the perks of being short and stout means that falling backwards onto one's behind doesn't hurt so much when there isn't far to fall. It takes the lalafell a moment to get her bearings and process what's being said to her over all the commotion and background noise. This hyur lady seems friendly and nice enough (thankfully) and doesn't seem to be upset that she more or less barreled right into her legs.

She is quite a ways from home, but even before arriving here she had been for for quite some time. Being essentially the wrangler of the Scions will do that to a person. The hand offered is taken gracefully enough as she's helped to her feet but the comment has her pausing. Ah. Did she take her for a child? She wasn't that tiny, was she?]}

My mother? Oh, oh dear...do I look that young? Really?

_{[The eternal lalafell curse.]}

[ From magical medieval fantasy lands they may be, but Orsterra has no Lalafellin analogue. Ophilia can only assume that, yes, she is indeed that young.

… or, well, maybe not that young, because the indignation writ plain on her face suggests that Ophilia’s wrong in thinking so. Tataru barely reaches her hip standing at her tallest, though, and there’s no ignoring how high her voice is, either! What else could it be?

Because it’d be rude to ask—and even ruder still to dwell on the topic—she waves away the thought. Hopefully it does something to ease Tataru’s concern, too. ]

Please. You needn’t apologize. If anything, I believe I owe you an apology.

[ The sheepish smile on her face says she intends to do just that. Ignorance is no excuse for impropriety, after all. ]

Pray forgive my rudeness. I am Sister Ophilia. What might your name be?

Edited 2020-01-17 11:30 (UTC)

Oh you weren't rude at all. There's nothing to forgive.

_{[Look, she was the rude one who ran into your legs. If anything they're even now. There are worse things people have mistaken for. Being seen as younger than she is isn't that strange and she knows it.

With a little curtsy and smile tugging at the corner of her lips she gives her introduction.]}

It's a pleasure, Sister. I'm Tataru Taru.

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TEST DRIVE MEME #8

Tataru Taru | FFXIV

can't feel my face

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Cake

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ding dong we're both dead

that means double the cake

oh joy

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